You know, I was gonna write a whole rant about this. I had it planned in my head. But seriously? The stupidity of this law…I think my brain is about 5 minutes from going all asplodey. Seriously. And um, y’all legislators do realize that quite a few fat folks come to Mississippi to, well, eat, right? As a southerner (and I lived in Mississippi for a time), I know that some of the best cuisine comes from the Delta. So, you’re willing to a) fuck up people’s livelihoods and b) fuck up the tourism industry just because y’all want to make a statement about obesity?

Yeah. That’s it. This just might be the STUPIDEST fuckin’ thing a state has done. It’s like Jim Crow all over again. Unbelievable.

If there are folks there in Mississippi that are not registered, y’all please go and make that happen. Tomorrow. Because there’s no telling what else will be proposed in other states. Make swift work of this, and go forth and snuff out this scourge.*

*And when I say snuff, people? That’s a synonym for “stop”. I am NOT, under any circumstances, advocating violence of any kind. Trust me, a legal action (voting against this, protesting, writing eloquent angry letters) gets one much farther than acting like a brute.

There should totally be a rule that the person who speaks MeMe Roth’s name should take a shot of pure melted SALTED butter. Mmm. Butter. But I digress.

But on to the lovin’. Let me tell you, these two women were much calmer than I would have been in that situation. So, I listen to MR’s statistics. So…800 people a DAY die of fat? Cut to me with my mouth hanging open. I don’t remember reading that stat. Especially because the CDC only reports 30,000 folks a year dying of the fat. Now, I don’t do much by figurin’ and such, but 800 times 365 (or more, it’s a leap year) is a lot more than 30,000. I wonder where MR got her information from?

But that’s ok, cause Monique and Rachel handled it well. Especially when Rachel went into the tinkering of the bullshit that is the BMI. See, in 1998, they (and “they” refers to the powers that be that determine what healthy is, whomever that might be) lowered the “average” requirement so that millions of folks woke up the next morning with the “overweight” label glued to their foreheads.

But it isn’t even the technical stuff that had me flinging clean socks and expletives at my television. It was listening to MR spew foolishness like “If the title of the NY Times article had been ‘Thin is in, or At Least Accepted’, there would have been a public outcry!” or the wonderful “The Fat Acceptance movement has come to mean that ‘Fat is beautiful'” or the FUCKING RIDICULOUS “Fat is already accepted as the norm…”

Have mercy. I’m not sure where to start. Ok, yes I am. We’ll start at the beginning. As Vesta44 said in her critique (and I’ll add I got the stats above from her too–I told y’all, I don’t do much by figurin’ and such), there’s no need for a blatant statement of “Thin is In”. We see it every single day when reading magazines, watching television, web surfing….we are always bombarded by these images of overly thin, tanned, blazingly white-toothed individuals. In a day where the norm is considered unattainable, it feels good to have some folks to relate to. That’s all. And truth be told (and I know this has been discussed at length in other more prolific blogs than my own) thin people aren’t automatically excluded. Because the thin is in propaganda doesn’t just take its toll on fat folks. It takes its toll on skinny folks, in between folks, everybody. And MR has an issue with these folks coming together to rally against this norm that has been foisted upon us? Kiss my ass.

Now, as for the whole “Big is beautiful” component, yep, I’ll say it. BIG IS BEAUTIFUL. THIN IS BEAUTIFUL. A BELLY WITH DEFINED ABS TO A BELLY WITH ROLLS IS BEAUTIFUL. THIN THIGHS ARE GORGEOUS. THICK THIGHS ARE GORGEOUS. ANY SIZE BODY FROM SVELTE TO CUDDLY AND ROUND IS BEAUTIFUL. Get it now? What I rally against, as an FA supporter, is the ideal that beauty, acceptance, and health are all pigeonholed into the package of the thin, tanned, blonde haired and blue eyed woman. I mean, you can be a brunette or have brown eyes, but that means your body has to be THAT much more toned. What I fight for is a world where folks don’t qualify someone’s beauty or handsomeness to fit that glorified unattainable ideal. (She’s so pretty for a fat girl. He’s so handsome for a fat guy.) Again, if MR has an issue with that, she can kiss my ass.

Oh, and PLEASE leave that whole fat is already acceptable argument alone, dammit. If it were acceptable, folks wouldn’t have garbage thrown at them when they jog. Folks wouldn’t have to come up with responses to Fatty Drive-Bys. In fact, there would BE no fatty drive-bys at all if fat were acceptable. In fact, if it were ok to be at one with oneself, there would be no Extreme Makeover and such. So for the third time, MR can kiss my ASS.

Oh, and random doctor A? (I didn’t catch her name.) Alright. Why is she proposing a moratorium on white foods? I like potatoes, rice, bread, and the like. It tastes good. I also like brown rice and wheat bread. It also tastes good. I like to drink my calories sometimes, because juice is tasty. And if I want a soda (mmmm, cherry Coke) or Kool-Aid (mmmm, watermelon cherry), I’m gonna drink that too. Because it’s tasty. And as we all know, the quickest way to cause an obsession is to restrict one’s access to something. Even if it’s as asinine as a potato(barring those who have sensitivities to these foods, of course.)

As I’ve said, Rachel and Monique ROCKED today, especially up against MR and the doctor AND in such limited time. They did beautifully.

So, researchers in Australia have found that folks with higher BMIs pose risks on the road, because with higher BMIs come a greater risk of lethargy.

Study supervisor Dr Sara Lal says driving with sleep apnoea is effectively the same as drink driving due its similar effect on brain activity.

Wait, so all fat people have sleep apnea now? I wasn’t aware, considering, I, you know, DON’T HAVE IT.

Ms Pe Benito said the results defied some of the conventional wisdom about the differences between young and more seasoned drivers.

“For young drivers we found that the strongest predictors of crashing were body mass index (BMI) and regular alcohol consumption – as distinct from driving under the influence of alcohol,” she said.

“Obesity is a significant risk factor shared with older drivers. High BMI goes hand-in-hand with increased levels of lethargy, the rapid onset of fatigue and slower reaction times.

Good Lord. Did I get Bingo yet? Oh, boy. So, essentially, my fat makes me lethargic, fatigued, and slow to respond. And all of that plus a car equals accident, y’all. But see, it was the last part of the second article that struck me.

“However, there was no significant difference in brain activity and mood between young and older drivers and no association found between mood and driving performance,” Ms Pe Benito said.

Now see, this statement in and of itself lets me know that the study is bunk. It’s either that, or the good folks Down Under don’t have a such thing as road rage. In just about every state I have lived in, I’ve heard reports of folks driving badly while angry. And I don’t mean just speeding. I mean speeding to pull up next to to the offending car to shout obscenities, throw objects, or in the most extreme cases, to shoot into the car. In all seriousness. There have been children murdered in road rage incidents. But there’s no significant difference in brain activity and mood?

Oh, and will this study provide a new police charge: DWF (that’s driving while fat, natch)? And is it considered a double offence if the person driving is both fat AND drunk? The mind boggles, y’all.

You know, I say this every time a “study” is released to the world: I want to know where the research money is coming from! I can discover foolishness too. I can! Just give me a reason, and where to look for it, and I PROMISE you I can deliver some grade A foolishness.

But you know…I don’t think my foolishness could ever top this one. At all.

Man. I’ve been pretty down these past few days. I’m having the “I’m Never Gonna Have A Career!” blues. I wish I was able to afford an apartment. Or a car. Or my cell bill. Or the damn $20 payment on my credit card. But I can’t. And that shit sucks to high heaven.

I don’t know anyone here in my new state…so I don’t have any friends. I’m not so lonely (cause I’m a natural loner 🙂 as I am just bored. And I wish I knew someone so they could come over and share my salmon chowder (brand new recipe y’all) I made tonight, cause nobody in my house eats salmon but me.

I want to date…but I don’t feel I have a whole lot to bring (see first saddening paragraph above) to the table, besides my sparkling personality and razor-sharp wit, of course. 🙂

But despite all of this…all of my whining and complaining…I have no need to:

Diet

Exercise Obsessively

Berate my belly

or make a list of flaws.

Now some folks are wondering…how in the hell did she make a jump from feeling broke to her belly? Simple. I was one of those folks who felt that everything that went wrong in life (lack of job, friends, significant other) was brought on my my belly. Because see, when you’re fat, nothing else is focused on except the size of your belly. That’s what it’s all about, after all. You’d get a man if you took the time to look good. (Look good=get skinny, natch.)You’d have a job if you looked “hireable” (no. seriously. someone told me that once. jackass.) Our culture stigmatizes fat so much that it feels like getting rid of it is the Holy Grail to All Things Wonderful.

But it isn’t. And even though I’m in this funk now, I’m happy to note that, for once in my 22 years on this Earth, it has absolutely nothing to do with my thighs/arms/ass/belly. I’m not angry at my fat, nope, not a bit. Not anymore.

Heh. Oddly enough, that was my first reaction when I finally saw the much buzzed-about “How To Look Good Naked” starring the one and only Carson (of Queer Eye fame).

Honestly, even with all of the positive feedback, I was still kind of skeptical. Won’t there be some “We’re gonna hide your flaws under mounds of clothing” foolishness? Or the ever favorite, “You’re cute, so shut up. You don’t get to complain.”

Well. I ate those words along with my homemade potato soup, y’all. This young woman (whose name escapes me right this second) was allowed to cry and vent. No eye-rolling or anything saucy like that (like a couple of other fashion mavens from a competing network that we won’t mention today.)

What struck me, however, was the fact that this perfectly healthy and beautiful woman had been put on a diet since the age of 12. See, if this ain’t the poster of what not to do to your (supposedly) fat teen (Begin tangent: if the show ain’t get the point across, hop over here and read the various accounts of familial fat hate. And if you are the parent of a fat child and you surf your way that direction? When you’re done, go hug your child and tell them you love them as they are. End tangent.) I have no idea what is. This poor woman had been so warped that she thought beauty only came when she was 40lbs lighter. And truthfully, when one has had this whole “You’d be beautiful if you were thinner” mentality hammered in your head, hell, the Almighty could come down and tell you you’re gorgeous and you’d ponder before saying “Thank You.”

So, for me, the lover of all things called reality tv (I’m a walking encyclopedia for American Idol, Top Model….yeah.) as well as all things makeover shows (even the irritating ones)–I gotta give this one two thumbs up. It was really an empowering thing. Because once the show was over and I took my shower, I posed in the mirror admiring my curves, my stretch marks, my belly…everything I once thought was wrong with me…was perhaps only what I thought was wrong with me.

Ain’t self introspection beautiful, y’all?

Oh, and if y’all want to see a review of the British version, hop on over here and read what Nuckingfutz had to say.

Ah, yes. It’s back. It’s that time of year where folks begin to regret the relaxation they experienced over the holidays…and begin to plan their yearly assault on the fat. And the diet industry has been feeding on the soon-to-be more prominent mass hysteria that is the “Lose Weight and Look Great!” resolution.

As I’m lolling in bed this morning, contemplating an old fashioned southern breakfast (eggs, toast, southern style hash browns–the ‘tatoes are cubed and not shredded–grits, sausage, y’know, the usual), I see the now infamous “Diets don’t work” commercial from the Weight Watchers, the Special K commercial where the child mistakes Mom for Santa (*massive sigh*), the NutriSystem commercial where their success stories are participating in a fashion show(the phrase “NutriSexy” was thrown about. I giggled uproariously), and finally, the commercial whose message I’d like to focus on today, the Jenny Craig commercial in which an emotional Valerie Bertinelli says she’ll wake up on January 1 and not worry about her weight.

Ok, first, let me just say any one (man, woman, child, dog, cat) who can wake up on New Year’s and not feel like they have to do a Draconian weight loss program is doin’ big things in life. I just wish that Ms. Bertinelli didn’t have to LOSE weight in order to allow herself the pass on WORRYING about her weight another year.

I sense jaws dropping. It’s a revolutionary thought, isn’t it?

As has been discussed in the Fantasy of Being Thin thread over at Kate’s place, folks hinge so much on being thin they forget to live life. So essentially, the majority of what folks sink into the first of the year is the “I GOTTA lose weight” mantra because they wholeheartedly feel that their lives don’t begin until they fit into any size that’s smaller than the size they wear now. And as a result, if folks fall off the wagon for whatever reason, all of their OTHER goals that they had set for “when I become a size ____” will automatically fall by the wayside. Because you can’t learn another language/how to sew/how to make sushi so on and so forth unless you fit into a size 2, right? Because you can’t love yourself/love your life/ get a husband or wife if you’re fat, right? So folks close themselves into bubbles and shut themselves into corners because they just know their lives will be less enriched without that damned scale saying the right numbers.

One’s sanity, one’s peace of mind, one’s WORTH, cannot be determined by numbers on a scale, y’all. Your waistline does not say anything about the person that you are. So, for the love of sweet creamery butter, do NOT allow the onslaught of new diet/weight-loss ads and the upcoming premiere of the Biggest Loser determine what your resolutions this year are, folks. Resolve to be just like Valerie Bertinelli: wake up tomorrow and NOT worry about your weight.

And if you use up all of your Sanity Watchers points just by tuning in to say, a cartoon or movie on the tube, go over to this thread here and immerse yourself in other folks resolutions…ones that have nothing to do with weight loss and everything to do with living life.

…and head over to the (very cute and amusing) website Keep Santa Fat. As commenter Rob J says:

Sign the petition and let these people know who really needs to “lighten up”. Also, for every signature collected a pound of food will be donated to America’s Second Harvest.

And I’m all about doing good for someone while taking a stand. So, if you want to help Santa keep his jellyesque belly AND donate some food to the hungry, y’all go click the link above and sign. You can also donate directly to America’s Second Harvest via the site, and any merchandice you buy will also benefit ASH. Ok, so what are y’all waiting for? Go click! 🙂